Who's the crazy one?
by DarkStarInOrbit
Summary: "Why wouldn't they see you?" she asks. "Because I'm not alive." He said "You're a demon?" "No, I'm not a demon, I'm a spirit." He smiles Warning: Includes discreet self harm, abuse and suicide...


**Warning! Includes discreet self harm and child abuse and suicide. Don't like it? Read something else, hope you enjoy this if you do read :3 **

**Songs that helped me write this: Monster – Meg and Dia, 9 Crimes – Damien Rice and last but not least Flightless bird – American Mouth**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater... or Soul... unfortunately T_T**

"Who are you? I've never seen you around here before..." The girl tilted her head to the side, hands limp by her pink dress. The boy didn't answer, "You can see me?" He asks. She nods.

"I've never seen someone with red eyes before." She smiles. The boy's eyes widen and a smile breaks across his lips, "Wow you have very sharp teeth." She remarks, pigtails swishing. He quickly covers his mouth with his hand, "It's ok, I don't mind." She says. He puts his hand back down, smiling again, "I've never met someone like you, nobody ever sees me." The little girl puts her hands on her hips, "Why wouldn't they see you?" she asks.

"Because I'm not alive." He said

"You're a demon?"

"No, I'm not a demon, I'm a spirit." He smiles

...

"Oooh Maka's such a nerd!" The blonde twins pushed the girl into the mud, cackling with laughter.

"G-Guys w-we might get c-c-caught by a t-teacher, I don't know how t-to h-handle that." Their companion sputtered, Maka stood up looking down at her dress, "Aw, Papa just bought this for me." She cries, "Its ok Maka don't cry." She looks over to the white haired boy. "We'll get back at them, I promise." She eyes him.

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." He smiles. "Woops... already done" the pair laugh. Both blond twins look at the girl, "She-she's talking t-to herself a-again!" The pink headed girl points, everyone turns.

"Maka's such a freak."

"She's so weird."

"She must be crazy."

...

"Maka Albarn."

"Yes sensei?"

"I expect better from you." The woman readjusted her eye patch, her blond hair curling wildly across her face. The girl can only nod.

"And I expect you to make sure your students aren't brats." He says imitating her voice right in front of her, Maka lets out a series of bubbly laughter.

"This is not funny Maka." The teacher says.

"I'm sorry miss." But the girl carries on laughing at the unnoticed antics caused by the snow haired boy. The teacher stands up brushing off invisible dust on her knee length skirt, the boy copies her every move, making it look ridiculous. Maka couldn't stop laughing. All the students were staring at her through the window, she pretends to high five her buddy; she can only pretend because he's a spirit after all and her hand just goes straight through his. Or in one way, his hand goes through hers.

"That was a funny prank, did you see the look on their faces?" they both laugh remembering the photos of the twins in their knickers running bare foot in the street. Hanging on the chalkboard. Maka owned up to it, because it showed she was brave enough to admit what she does, unlike the two girls sitting horrified in the corner of the room. "Shhh~ I c-can't breathe!" she shouts between giggles.

Her father walks in and she takes a large gulp. All the fun left her. "Maka." He greets. He doesn't sound friendly. He never does with her, but this time he sounded worse.

"Where did you get them photos Maka?"

"I didn't take them!" she wines. Her father's eyes narrow.

"If you didn't take them, then who did?" he accuses, pointing a finger at her.

"It-It WAS SOUL!" she points. "What?! Don't blame it on me!" he wines. Her father stops. Confusion flashing across his face.

"Who's Soul?" she shakes her head. Her father repeats the question. She shakes her head again.

That night, her psychotic father beat it out of her, she could only scream as Soul shouted in her oblivious father's face. That night, she was classified as a nutter by absolutely everyone, even her own papa. But he was no longer papa, or daddy, he was just another one of them. One of _them._

...

She didn't like it. Any of it. She had one friend, she was glad of that, but she knew he'd never know what it was like. Being able to see him. One day she'd said she wished she'd never been like this. She didn't realise how it would hurt him. That's when she noticed, he does feel like me. He only has me, I'm the only one who can see him. She cried and cried, begging for forgiveness, which he granted, but she knew she'd not grazed him, but dug deep enough to leave a scar.

...

She began doing the unthinkable. Each time he'd tell her to stop, but she wouldn't. Not until she was satisfied. Not until she knew she was truly alive. Not until she knew that she wasn't the freak everyone thought she was. More than a few times she ended up in hospital because of it. She couldn't care less. It pained him to see her do those. Almost every night. Opening what was closed. Crying out in pain. All he could do was watch; he couldn't reach out and stop her. She told him to hit a train, he didn't even consider it. Leaving her was not an option. He had to be there for her.

...

"Hey Soul, I never asked, how did you die?"

"That's a complete other story, one that needs time to be told." He smiled, his red eyes melting under her stare. She nods, "Ok." He just carries on smiling.

"Thank you Maka."

"It's ok Soul."

They sat in Silence for a little bit. Maka was just finishing her homework, and they got talking again.

"Did you know I play piano?"

"No, I didn't actually." She looks at him.

"Famous?"

"Local." He says, presenting her a jagged smile.

"Cool." She mutters, looking at him, he looks back.

"I KNEW IT! YOU REALLY ARE A PHSYCO! THAT'S IT MAKA!" The man stormed in past the door.

Her father grabbed her hands, tying them together with a cloth and stuffing another in her mouth, she tried to scream, ask what the fuck he was doing. Soul walked behind them "What are you doing you idiot?!" 'Course, the man didn't hear him...

...

She used to be normal. Or so she thinks, she can't tell anymore what normal is. Is there such thing as normal? The room is dark, she didn't like it, she couldn't see Soul properly, and it was too dark at night. The small window wouldn't let enough of the moon's light in. Her bed sheets tangled up on the bed. "Maka?" he asks.

"M."

"Are you ok?"

"No."...

"I know I shouldn't say this. But what if you left?" Silence. She'd considered it before. But wasn't it a bit over dramatic? Not in her case. No.

"How?" she asked.

He told her, she slung her pillow case over the light, tightening it into a loop. She stood up on her bed, and put her hands over soul's pretending that she could feel warmth coming off of him as if he was actually letting her rest her hands on his.

"It's ok. There's nothing here for me anyway." She leans forward, the bottom of her neck feeling the soft cotton. She stood forward, stepping into thin air.

One minute she was pretending she could hold Soul's hands, and now she was, she looked up from their hands into his eyes, she felt tears of joy slip down her cheek. She pushed herself into his arms. He wrapped them around her, they both cried, and cried, soaking each other in tears of pure delight and sadness.

Ironically, she'd never felt so alive.

**A/N: I cried... as hard as I tried I cried whilst writing this, now I have tears all over my keyboard DAMMIT! Why did I write something so depressing? I was bored and sad music was playing on my computer... Did you like it? Did you cry, or am I just overly sensitive? Poor Maka. TT-TT**


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